


Reality isn’t Completely Broken…Yet

by Jillie_chan



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Another Side another story, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 15:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10947057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillie_chan/pseuds/Jillie_chan
Summary: Where was Carlos during the events of Cal? He was right there, the whole time.The whole time.





	Reality isn’t Completely Broken…Yet

Carlos heard Cecil open the front door, talking to whoever was on the other side, but he wasn’t paying attention as his focus was solely on the random numbers he had brought home that his assistant, Wang Fang, had painstakingly made up about the tears in reality.

He knew he had promised Cecil that he wouldn’t investigate them but it wasn’t the Library’s tear and he had carefully weighed the choice between studying them, the miniature inhabitants under Lane Five of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley, Arcade and Fun Complex, or finding the perfect cookie recipe by rolling a three sided die and that’s where it landed. Well technically it had landed in the bowl of chips, knocking it over and that’s where the chips and the die had landed which Carlos, a man of Pure Science, took as a sign.

Cecil yelled at him to come to the other room and in his mind Carlos yelled back that he would be there in a moment but out loud he said nothing; still too wrapped up in numbers than what his husband was saying to him.

“It’s just tea, no alcohol at all,” Cecil promised whoever he had invited in, popping his head into Carlos’s office.

Carlos turned slightly in his chair, holding up a finger to show he would be there in a moment, just as soon as he was done with the numbers and Cecil seemed satisfied as he wandered away.

After a second he could hear something rattle in the sink so Cecil must have pulled up the bonsai tree next to the sink and was making the tea.

“You know, you never realize how long a human tooth actually is,” he heard Cecil say from the other room, trying to make polite small talk.

Carlos didn’t hear the response but he did hear Cecil’s disheartened “no.”

Carlos grabbed a red pen and circled some of the numbers and drawing arrows so that they would, metaphorically, move from one section to another. He had gotten completely absorbed in his work when he heard Cecil shakily cry out, “Mom would’ve never put us in such danger!”

“Cecil,” Carlos called, leaning his chair back on two legs, “Honey, are you okay?”

Cecil didn’t answer.

Carlos let his chair fall back on all four of its legs, abandoning the papers on the desk as he stepped into the kitchen/main room.

“Cecil?” Carlos asked, watching his husband frantically pace back and forth gesturing to an empty chair.

“No, this, this is _wrong_ ; I have a _sister_ , I’m sorry, but I don’t have a brother!” Cecil stated, tears forming in his eyes. “And I’m _married_! I’m not-“

Cecil turned so sharply that he nearly knocked Carlos over as he practically ran to the bookshelf, yanking one of the photo albums off of it. “I’ll prove it!”

While Cecil flipped through the pages Carlos looked at the empty chair, noticing a shiny pool of fresh blood proving that _something_ was going on. He glanced at his husband before quickly stepping back into his office for his Science Stick.

When Carlos came back in Cecil had moved onto another photo album, flipping through Janus’s baseball game, bowling league night, and the photos of their wedding that didn’t fit in the other album with a speed that it was hard to tell if he was really seeing the pictures. Carlos waved the stick around the room, poking the air as he looked for whatever was upsetting his husband.

“Bethany,” Cecil said suddenly, “Still just as radiant, I bet!”

Carlos stopped poking the air, to see Cecil pointing at a blank page, the beginning of many blank pages in that album.

“Who’s Bethany?” Carlos asked his words over lapping with Cecil’s sentence of “How is she these days?”

Suddenly, Cecil was violently thrown against the bookshelf, the album falling from his hands, landing in such a way that it was standing on its own, wedged open, the pictures peeking out of the fan of pages that had spread out to stabilize it.

“Cecil!” Carlos cried, dropping his stick as he knelt down, touching Cecil’s shoulder. “Cecil, are you okay? Cecil!”

Carlos shook Cecil’s shoulder hard, trying to get his attention but Cecil’s eyes were fixed on the door to his office. “Cecil, please look at me!”

Cecil turned to him, his eyes confused but soft. He gently wrapped his arm around Carlos, running his fingers through his hair. “I know, I know, Cal, shh, it’s okay.”

Carlos felt like

He didn’t know what he felt like.

Just that it was awful.

“Cecil, who’s Cal?”

“You okay?” Cecil asked.

“No, no I’m not, Cecil. What’s going on? What do you see? Cecil, do you know it’s me?”

Cecil gave the smile he gave when his patience was at its end and he was done being polite. “Sure thing. Please: Leave My House.”

Carlos pulled away.

Now he felt worse.

Carlos licked his lips. “Okay, I will Cecil, if you answer me one thing, I’ll leave. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Cecil said nothing, his gaze turned back to Carlos’s office.

Carlos moved into Cecil’s line of sight, holding up his index finger, his middle finger and a thumb. “Cecil, how many fingers am I holding up?”

Cecil blinked, his eyes looking past Carlos’s hand to his face. “I…I _know_ you.”

Carlos let out of lung full of air in relief. “Yes…Cecil, do you know where you are?”

“I, I’m in my house?”

“Okay, good, can you tell me who Cal is?” Carlos asked.

“My brother,” Cecil answered promptly.

Carlos remembered that horrible broadcast so long ago, the one that was supposed to be a fun walk down memory lane as Cecil played his old tapes over the air, only to hear him get more and more distressed as a teenager that claimed to be Cecil talked about his mother and a brother and then-

Carlos pushed aside his worry. “Is he older or younger than you?”

“He’s-” Cecil leaned back against the wall. “I don’t- He was just here-”

Carlos reached behind Cecil, hooking his hands under Cecil’s arms. “Come on, up we go.”

Cecil stood and walked over to the table easily; Carlos watched Cecil sink into his chair, burying his head into his arms.

Carlos paced a short distance frantically unwilling to get too far away from Cecil; He needed Cecil to write down what happened. The only thing Carlos could do to help Cecil was Science and like his hero Madame Marie Curie had often said ‘ _the difference between Science and screwing around is writing it down._ ’ And while Cecil was becoming far more bold with his public acknowledgement of Angels he was still wary of using any paper and pen that was not strictly regulated to the point that he hid his legally owned and licensed journal. Only Cecil and the Agent-From-A-Vague-Yet-Menacing-Government knew where he had hidden and Carlos didn’t want to leave Cecil for however long it would take to find-

Suddenly, Cecil’s journal landed on the table causing them both to jump.

“Cecil,” The-Faceless-Old-Woman-Who-Secretly-Lived-In-Their-Home said from somewhere around the oven, “Cecil, write down what happened. You’re causing your husband to freak out so much that he’s talking out loud. I’m pretending that he’s talking to me in an attempt to feel wanted and useful. I know that he actually forgot I was here, but I’m going to let it slide since, I too care about you, Cecil. So write down what just happened. Oh and by the way, the toilet’s clogged again. I have no idea where either of you put the plunger.”

“Uh, thank you and I think it’s in the bathtub,” Carlos called to the room at large, pulling open the silverware drawer and finding a pink colored pencil.  He held it out to Cecil who took with an absent ‘thank you’, the kind given to waiters or strangers polite enough to hold the door open.

Carlos grabbed the bag of coffee beans and the hammer out of the cabinet; he wasn’t near as good at Cecil at hand smashing them, leaving large chunks that Cecil would’ve never but it would be alright. Carlos heard the toilet flush, prompting him to pull out an extra mug. He had no idea how The-Faceless-Old-Woman drank her coffee but she knew where the hot milk drawer and sugar was.

Carlos sat down, placing a cup of coffee in front of Cecil. Cecil carefully wrote down the incident, with his neat perfectly average hand writing. Carlos sat at the table carefully studying Cecil’s perfectly average face; something that most people seemed to dismiss or find forgettable but Carlos would never forget and loved. Cecil had a _Perfectly_ average face: average eyes, average hair, average height, average weight, every aspect of Cecil was at the top of bell curve of average that that in itself was a statistical anomaly creating perfection.

Cecil blinked, looking up from his journal and stared back at Carlos for a long moment.

“Are you finished?” Carlos asked, peering over his mug to read the journal upside-down.

Cecil moved so quickly that Carlos nearly spilled his coffee on both of them as Cecil hugged Carlos hard.

“Cecil?” Carlos asked, reaching around Cecil to put his coffee down before returning the hug.

“Where were you?” Cecil asked shakily.

“I was here,” Carlos said, “I was here the whole time.”

“No, you were gone, your office-it was gone! You, you never came to Nightvale-and I-”

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Carlos said, the shoulder of his causal lab coat growing wet from Cecil’s tears. After a moment Cecil pulled away, using his palms to shove his tears away.

“Do,” Carlos started hesitantly, holding Cecil’s hand, “do you remember what happened?”

“I-I think so?” Cecil was silent for a moment, “I know that you and your office was… _gone._ And, and I was single, and then…”

Cecil stopped talking and Carlos let the silence grow for a moment.

“Do you remember Cal?” Carlos asked after it was clear that Cecil was at a loss.

“Who’s Cal?” Cecil asked.

“Your brother?” Carlos gently prodded.

“I don’t have a brother,” Cecil said, “I only have a sister.”

Carlos shoulders dropped in relief. “Are you sure?”

Cecil made a face. “Well…I mean if you _have to_ , you could, in only a legal sense, not in a ‘I-actually-care-about-him-way’, count, vaguely…God, can’t believe I’m even implying this… ** _STEVE_**.”

Cecil made a disgusted noise, like he was about to throw up, swallowing half of his coffee as if he was getting the bad taste out of his mouth. He slammed his mug down and pointed at Carlos. “DON’T YOU DARE TELL HIM I SAID THAT!!! In fact I never did. Make a note Agent-From-A-Vague-Yet-Menacing-Government currently listening in: I never said it! In fact, leave today’s recording on the front step: I will literally eat my words! Do we have any garlic?”

“No, it’s on the list and what did you do?” Carlos asked, playfully rubbing his husband’s thumb with his own.

“Say-nope, never mind,” Cecil turned to pick his mug back up when his eyes landed on his journal. He read over what he had written, his eyes growing wide with horror. “I don’t remember _any_ of this.”

“Are you sure?” Carlos asked.

“I-I don’t know,” Cecil admitted, holding tighter to Carlos’s hand. “Do, do you know what happened to me?”

“Well, as you know, a Scientist has many theories, so my theory is that you were partially in a different timeline. Multiply timelines are basic quantum physics, which I know a lot about since quantum physics is _the_ most exciting kind of physics there is!” Carlos glanced up to see Cecil looking at him like he was adorable despite being terrified. Carlos quickly got back on track, “Anyway, my theory is that you ended up getting trapped in-between realities, where in one you had a brother named Cal, yet I could still see and interact with you. But the important thing is that you settled back into this reality.”

“I had to,” Cecil said, using his grip on Carlos’s hand to bring it closer to his face so he could kiss Carlos’s knuckles. “It’s the reality were you are. I don’t want any other reality or timeline that doesn’t have you in it.”

Carlos leaned forward, resting his forehead against Cecil’s. “We’ll get through this I promise.”

Carlos then gently kissed Cecil, grounding them both in the moment.

“Uck, you two are disgustingly cute,” The-Faceless-Old-Woman-Who-Secretly-Lived-In-Their-Home said, her coffee mug having been shattered then glued back together into the shape of a snail.


End file.
